


vita in floribus

by Halmaithor



Series: amor in lingua florum [2]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, Future Fic, Helen and Aline are also mentioned, Immortal Husbands, Language of Flowers, M/M, POV Alternating, Sequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:41:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24656995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Halmaithor/pseuds/Halmaithor
Summary: 'Alexander Gideon Lightwood-Bane, this is your life. Care to take a turn around Memory Lane?’One hundred years after their first meeting, Magnus takes Alec to a certain clearing in the Seelie realm.
Relationships: Magnus Bane & Alec Lightwood & Max Lightwood-Bane & Rafael Lightwood-Bane, Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Series: amor in lingua florum [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1782700
Comments: 4
Kudos: 104
Collections: Shadowhunters Fic-A-Thon 2020





	vita in floribus

**Author's Note:**

> Hey :) So this is a follow-up to 'in floribus veritas'. It'll probably make a lot more sense if you read that one first!
> 
> The blindfold joke is inspired by sugarandspace's amusing tag on [THIS](https://sugarandspace.tumblr.com/post/187359281025/paint-the-memories-golden) fic of hers (which I adore).  
> The exploration of how different realms affect different magics and their wielders is to satisfy [ralf's](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ralf) curiosity after a conversation we had about it a while back. ^^
> 
> Lastly: [HERE](https://silver-latin-and-salt.tumblr.com/private/620595513264357376/tumblr_TLfA5ojcBrnLDzYmd) is a list of the flowers in this fic and their meanings, with the moment they sprung up clarified whenever it isn't made obvious in the main text.
> 
> Please enjoy! <3

‘You know, when you brought out the blindfold, this is _not_ what I imagined.’

Magnus laughs, leading his husband along by both hands, walking backwards himself. ‘Oh, hush,’ he says, though he can feel himself grinning. The Seelie realm always does that to him – magic is so much _more,_ so _present_ here compared to their home realm. It’s easy to get swept up in the heady side of that power; a feeling which is both incredibly similar and vastly different from the deep swell of righteousness that comes from visiting an infernal plane. If Magnus were in the mood for metaphor – which, as they wander through this woodland, is increasingly the case – he would say that it’s like the distinction between a scalding hot cup of coffee and a well-spiced vindaloo.

Of course, being as the Seelie deal in both angelic and demonic magics, it’s possible that it would be affecting Alec too – that is, if it weren’t for the extra spell Magnus cast on the black silk covering his eyes, to hide the other aspect of their destination. As such, he’s his regular, slightly-disgruntled self, willing to put up with almost anything for Magnus but also not having patience as his principal virtue. ‘Seriously,’ he says, a bare note of no-nonsense entering his tone. ‘Where are we going? I thought you didn’t like surprises.’  
‘Is it really a surprise?’ Magnus asks - lightly, ponderingly. ‘Come on, Shadowhunter. After all the years you spent walking through the night, don’t tell me you’ve now grown so reliant on being able to see,’ he teases. ‘Where do you _think_ we are?’  
Alec’s mouth quirks in amused annoyance at the jibe, but his expression quickly clears as he apparently focuses on his surroundings. Magnus smirks. There are certain things that seem hardwired into Lightwood DNA, and backing down from a challenge is decidedly _not_ one of them. ‘Well, a forest, obviously,’ Alec says, as if there aren’t plenty who’d get even that part wrong. ‘A big one. Far from any civilization – it’s one of the quietest places we’ve been.’  
‘You’re two for two,’ Magnus tells him. ‘Anything else?’  
The blindfold creases a little as Alec’s brow furrows. ‘It’s still daytime, so we haven’t changed time zones…?’ But he sounds doubtful, and a moment later his eyebrows shoot up. ‘But it’s more than that,’ he realizes. ‘Something feels… different. Magnus, are we in the Seelie realm?’

In answer, Magnus steps towards him and places a gentle peck of a kiss on his lips. ‘Right again,’ he says, smiling. ‘I suppose that spell on the blindfold couldn’t block out _all_ of its magical signature, hm?’  
‘Not quite,’ Alec admits, nodding. ‘It’s… different. It _feels_ different. I don’t know how to describe it.’  
‘Well,’ Magnus says airily, ‘it’s lucky for you that I know exactly what you mean, then.’

They finally come to the right clearing, and Magnus finds himself beaming as they make their way to the center of it. It’s even better than he pictured. ‘One last thing, Alexander,’ he says, letting a casual air float over his tone, despite his excitement. ‘Do you happen to know what day it is?’  
Alec hesitates. ‘I know the date?’ he offers. ‘Is it… significant, somehow?’  
‘Indeed it is,’ Magnus says. He steps forward again, gently placing his hands on his husband’s shoulders. ‘Today is the one-hundredth anniversary of the day we met,’ he says softly.  
Alec’s eyebrows shoot up once more, reappearing from behind the blindfold, and Magnus can’t help but laugh at the sight, even as he feels a pang of sympathy for Alec’s apparent alarm. ‘I didn’t – how did you even remember that?’ he asks, his voice breathy with disbelief.  
‘Don’t worry,’ Magnus reassures him, moving his thumbs to rub small, comforting circles over the outskirts of Alec’s collarbones. ‘I didn’t expect you to remember. The only reason _I_ did is because…’ He grins. ‘Well. It’s better that I show you, I think.’

He reaches up, and removes the blindfold.

***

Before Alec’s even blinked the daylight into his eyes again, he registers the _scent,_ and then an altogether different sense takes over his mind – a _push,_ a _wave_ of magic cascading over him, sparking in feeling and memory as his slowly-adjusting gaze darts around what looks to be some sort of clearing in the forest.

And then that gaze catches on the nearest tree, and Alec’s jaw drops, the cacophony falling away as one moment powers through – it’s excitement, and curiosity, and a touch of fear, and it’s all emanating from – ‘That’s not a tree,’ he realizes out loud. ‘It’s… a rose?’  
Magnus nods. ‘It’s the very first flower you conjured,’ he says, a soft smile on his face. ‘A thornless rose, growing straight out of the floorboards where we first met.’  
‘We took down that Circle member together,’ Alec murmurs – and then he smiles. ‘You made a pun about steak.’  
‘And I stand by it,’ Magnus declares with a wink. ‘All these years later, we’re still here, aren’t we?’

He takes Alec’s hand, leading him closer to the ‘trunk’ of the tree-like structure, the rose bush grasping up towards the sky before spreading into something of a canopy. ‘I sent this here because I wanted it to have a safe place to grow,’ he says. ‘Then, once I interrupted your wedding, and I had faith that we were going somewhere? I made a note of the date we met, and set a timer of sorts – specifically, a fire message to myself, scheduled to arrive yesterday.’ He grins. ‘Needless to say, my good feeling about us turned out to be correct.’  
Alec shakes his head with a fond smile, reaching up to touch a smooth, burgundy petal. It’s a visceral impact of memory that hits him; it’s like he’s standing there again, in the loft, a repressed twenty-something meeting the most compelling person he’d ever seen – or has known since.

He swallows down the unexpected lump in his throat. ‘So, all of these…?’ He barely dares ask, though from the echoing emotions rolling off of this meadow, he’s fairly certain he knows the answer.  
Magnus nods. ‘It’s not every one you’ve ever conjured, of course,’ he explains. ‘But it’s a lot of the… big moments. Or simply the happiest ones.’  
He gives a showman-like, dazzling smile, holding one arm out wide. ‘I suppose,’ he says, a twinkle of mischief in his golden eyes, ‘that what I’m saying is this: _Alexander Gideon Lightwood-Bane, this is your life.’_ He holds out his other arm towards Alec, raising his eyebrows. ‘Care to take a turn around Memory Lane?’

Alec huffs – his husband can be such a _show-off_ sometimes – but he returns the smile, taking Magnus’ arm. ‘Lead the way.’

***

It’s just the right side of overwhelming, walking this glade with Alec, their intuition of its magic heightened by the realm itself. The clearing’s pretty large, but even so, it’s thriving in staggering density, packed full of bloom and color and scent and memory. Usually, Magnus will point out what a certain flower is _(those are the freesia from the night you fell asleep on the couch; these are some of the lavender sprigs and orchids that started springing up as soon as you were spending more time at the loft),_ while other times he wants to know what Alec remembers or recognizes. ‘These have always been some of my favorites,’ he admits, gesturing to the lilac roses that are winding their way up the trunk of a silver birch.  
Alec smiles. ‘You know I’ve always loved your magic,’ he says. ‘Though, speaking of that – how is this meadow even here? I can’t imagine that the Seelie Court takes kindly to outsiders tampering with their ecosystem.’  
‘You’d be right,’ Magnus says, fighting down a smirk as they pass a patch of dog roses – and then immediately being hit with a wave of sentimentality, as the striped tulips nearby make themselves known. Oh, he well remembers which night _that_ particular combination is from. ‘But I did the Court a favor, back in the early twentieth century, and was granted some minor land use as recompense. This clearing is, by their standards, mine.’ They wander past some different tulips – scarlet ones, this time, and he tightens his hold on Alexander’s arm. ‘And so, by my standards, _ours,’_ he says. ‘For a while, I used it for growing potion ingredients – but of course, once I met you, this seemed like a far better idea.’

Alec shakes his head again, but he’s looking at Magnus a little wonderingly. ‘You old romantic,’ he says – and then he’s grabbing Magnus by the lapels, pulling him in for a decisive, joyful kiss, and the déjà vu hits Magnus full force, even before they part and he sees the mistletoe above, the carnations and snowdrops below.  
Magnus raises an eyebrow. ‘Look who’s talking.’

***

Just beyond the larkspur and peonies from their wedding day, they come across a patch of ground Alec doesn’t recognize. ‘This one,’ he says, by way of a question.  
A question which Magnus doesn’t answer, of course. ‘Yes? What about it?’  
Alec gives him a withering look, though there’s no real intent behind it. ‘It’s similar to the more… background arrangements,’ he says. It’s surprisingly difficult to find the right words for a giant metaphorical scrapbook you’re currently walking around, he muses. ‘Lavender, orchids, honeysuckle. But it’s different somehow – it’s like it’s been given some… pride of place; like our wedding, or the day we met.’  
Magnus chuckles. ‘We really ought to invite Madzie over soon,’ he comments idly. ‘If she’s settled on magic sensitivity as the topic for her next research paper, I’m sure your development over the decades would make for _fascinating_ evidence.’

_‘Magnus,’_ Alec says, half-laughing even though he absolutely refuses to be distracted from the matter at hand by magical theory. Or flattery, for that matter. ‘Come on. What day was this? I can’t place it.’  
‘I’m not surprised,’ Magnus says. His smile eases from teasing nonchalance to something softer, more comfortable; and he takes Alec’s hand once more, leading him until they’re stood in the middle of the unfamiliar patch of meadow – facing each other, immersed in the unknown memory. ‘It wasn’t anything… particular. Not in a concrete sense, at least,’ he explains. ‘It wasn’t an anniversary, or a piece of good news, or anything remarkable.’ He reaches his free hand outwards, rubbing a few buds of lavender between finger and thumb; Alec breathes deeply, trying to place the feeling but getting only _affection_ – which is soothing and lovely, of course, but not exactly a clue. ‘It was a few months after we moved to Alicante,’ Magnus continues, his voice turning quiet, contemplative. ‘I think it was just after we got the northern werewolf pack established?’ He shrugs absently. ‘In any case. You came home one day, and we had dinner, had a drink while we were watching a movie – some sci-fi flick we’d seen a dozen times, or something like that.’ His hand comes up, his focus drawn to the middle distance even as he lightly traces his lavender-scented fingertips over Alec’s heart, following the _curve, tick, a-tick, strike-and-_ down of the bright red rune nestled safely under his shirt. ‘And I remember,’ he whispers, ‘that you got a text from Aline, and you asked about her and Helen coming to dinner sometime soon – and I thought…’ He looks back up at Alec, his smile soft and warm beneath his golden gaze. ‘Well, I _realized –_ that over those months, Alicante had started feeling like _home.’_ He huffs a breath that’s half-sigh, half-laughter. ‘So. I wanted to mark the day. Even though it was nothing special.’

Alec smiles. ‘Yeah, it was.’ The words come out a little hoarse, and he clears his throat, squeezing the hand he still has a hold of. ‘It was special. I’m glad you brought it here.’

  
They keep wandering the clearing, occasionally pausing in the midst of memories from holidays, anniversaries, achievements. In the sunniest corner of the meadow there are two pussy willows, twining together all the way up their trunks in a way that would be impossible in their home realm. Scattered around the base are white carnations and green berry bushes; half in flower, half in early fruit. ‘The days we got Max and Rafe,’ Alec says softly, brushing his hand gently across the tree bark – not needing the confirming hum from his husband, well-remembering the joy and excitement and sheer _love_ of those two days.

When they’ve circled the entire clearing, they walk back to the rose tree at the very center, settling in its shade. Unaccustomed to the chill – even though it’s only slight – Alec sits as close as he can to his husband, keeping a line of warm contact all down his own left side, and Magnus’ right.  
He reaches his right hand forward, brushing aside the tiny segments on the round purple and red flowers nearest to him, which strike up from a low-lying carpet of creeping peach roses. He remembers these, too. He remembers the happiness and fear and overarching _relief_ when they completed the ritual; he remembers the tears that sprang to his eyes when he realized that it _worked,_ he wouldn’t have to leave Magnus behind one day thanks to only the ravages of time.

That sparks a thought, and he turns back to his husband. ‘Hey,’ he says, frowning a little, but mindful not to come across as accusatory. ‘You said you set the – the _timer;_ the fire message, to remind you about today? You said that you set it just after my almost-wedding.’  
‘That’s right,’ Magnus says, a smile still on his lips even as a question crosses his brow.  
‘Well,’ Alec says gently, his mind whirring at the implication. ‘That was… early, to say the least.’  
Magnus chuckles. ‘I admit, I might have been somewhat… _swept up_ in your grand declaration,’ he confesses, leaning more heavily into Alec’s shoulder. ‘Like I say – I had a good feeling. I suppose a part of me knew, even then, that we were going to make things work.’  
Alec hesitates, but swallows down his reluctance, needing to know. ‘But you didn’t know I was going to… _stay,’_ he says. ‘You didn’t know I was going to choose immortality. Hell; barring becoming a vampire, neither of us even knew it was a _choice.’_

Magnus freezes against his side, his fingers tightening almost imperceptibly where they’re interlaced with Alec’s. ‘No,’ he says evenly. ‘No, I didn’t.’ He glances over – not quite at Alec’s eyes, but in his direction – and smirks weakly. ‘I should have known you’d realize that, when I told you what day it is.’  
Alec smiles a little sadly, not wanting to dwell too much on what might have been, but unable to escape it entirely. ‘But you still wanted to come here today,’ he says – not a question, but a statement. ‘Even though you thought that you’d be coming by yourself.’ He breathes deeply, steadily, his mind stumbling slightly over the image. Magnus, walking through this grove as he did today, but alone. A celebration, still – but also a memorial.

Magnus nods, sighing heavily, releasing Alec’s hand and shifting so that his arm is circling Alec’s waist instead. ‘After the first couple of centuries,’ he explains quietly, ‘you learn to start collecting the mementos early.’ He looks up at Alec again, just briefly. ‘That’s why every property I own is fully-furnished,’ he jokes. ‘If you want to remember something – some _one –_ it’s useful to have at least one… _touchstone,_ of sorts. A reminder of that day, or place, or person. Otherwise, things start to _fall through the cracks,_ as it were,’ he finishes softly.

Alec hums in understanding, wrapping his own arm around Magnus’ shoulders, his chest; tugging gently until his husband is pulling his arm back to his own side, and settling with his head pillowed over Alec’s steady heart.  
Alec closes his eyes for a second, pressing a kiss to the top of Magnus’ head. ‘I’m glad that I’m here with you,’ he murmurs. It’s a simple, fundamental truth, and one that he tries to tell Magnus often – he’s glad he’s here, he’s glad that he _stayed,_ and no matter what they’ve faced over the years, he hasn’t ever regretted his choice. Not even for a moment.  
Magnus leans against him more fully, his hands reaching up to clasp Alec’s over his own heart. ‘So am I,’ he whispers.

They lie there for a long time, exchanging soft words, and then even softer kisses, basking in the quiet and watching the sunlight shift over the leaves.  
Perhaps, Alec thinks, he ought to purchase a small piece of land like this in their own realm. After all, this one is looking pretty full, and he’s hoping that there’ll be many more living mementos needing a permanent home in their future.

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Has Rafael passed away, or did he marry a vampire or something and end up choosing immortality as well? Reader's choice. I just... _cannot_ with parental grief, that's not a topic I feel comfortable really exploring - especially in the middle of a fluff fic - so I left it open.  
> 2\. If you're curious as to the red rune mentioned over Alec's heart, it's the [Wedded Union](https://shadowhunterstv.fandom.com/wiki/Wedded_Union) rune. I won't go into too much detail here, because I plan on writing a proper ritual in my [immortality-focused series](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1542370), but the idea is that he gained that rune as part of the immortality ritual. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, please do let me know what you thought! <3 
> 
> p.s.: Reminder that if you're in a position to donate, [THIS website](https://secure.actblue.com/donate/bailfunds) will split that donation between several worthy #BlackLivesMatter -related causes, or let you specify where your money goes. <3


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